Delicate
by Skymouth
Summary: Barbra Gordon has been administered a dangerous drug that makes her want and do things that are out of her control. Because of its embarrassing nature, she is unwilling to confide in Batman, Robin, or her father. Whom can she turn to? Sexual content, l
1. Chapter 1

Delicate

Part I

By Brenna "Snakelady" Dawkins

A Batman Adventures Fanfic

Disclaimer: Batman and all subsequent characters are owned by DC Comics. I own nothing. Nothing I tell you! No money was made from this fic.

Rating: R

Summary: Barbra Gordon has been administered a dangerous drug that makes her want and do things that are out of her control. Because of its embarrassing nature, she is unwilling to confide in Batman, Robin, or her father. Whom can she turn to? Sexual content, language

Barbra Gordon woke with a pounding headache. She couldn't recall anything from the night before which wasn't like her at all. She felt groggy and out of sorts. It was close to dawn. The feeble light didn't offer much in the way of illumination. Only thing she could discern from the layout of the room was that it wasn't hers. The old, stale smoke smell assaulted her nostrils and she kept her breaths short so as not to inhale the stench too deeply.

A draft from the uninsulated window made her shiver and she realized she was naked which raised another thought provoking question. What happened? Where was she? She never slept naked and she wasn't in the habit of waking up in strange rooms. She tried to sit up and then realized a large arm was laying over her. There was a sharp snort from behind her and then a long sigh.

She froze in place, eyes wide. Where was she!? Who was that behind her? She definitely was not in the habit of sleeping with strange men! What had happened last night? Why couldn't she remember anything?

Her eyes slowly became adjusted to the light level of the room and she was able to study it a bit closer. She spied old movie posters on the wall of 'Casablanca', 'Gone With the Wind', and a couple of John Wayne ensembles. Her eyes roved across the room to a single recliner in front of an older model television. Then they fell upon a small table that had empty take out boxes and beer bottles strewn on its surface, on the chair hung a shoulder holster complete with revolver.

Barbra's mind raced, trying to put the pieces together. Something seemed oddly familiar, but her mind was still too fuzzy and she found it difficult to really concentrate. The arm pulled her in close to the warm, and naked body behind her. The even breathing told her that whoever he was, he was still asleep.

There was no way she was staying. She had to get up, get out of there, and figure out what had happened to her last night!

Carefully, she lifted the limp arm up and laid it behind her, then she literally slid out of the bed. She shivered in the chill air and covered herself with her arms and hands, mindful that she was uncharacteristically naked.

She took a deep breath, having to answer the big question of just who was that behind her. Slowly she turned around and then wished she hadn't. Her jaw dropped as she saw who she'd shared the bed with. He was laying there on his side with a content look on his face, something she'd never seen him wear before.

How? WHY?

The thoughts left her stupefied. It made no sense. She couldn't have… yet… all the evidence pointed to quite the contrary. She'd slept with him. The wobble in her legs told her that much. Stumblingly she gathered her clothes and dressed herself as quickly and as quietly as she could, not wishing to wake him and have an awkward confrontation.

She fled the room, running down the stairs of the apartment complex and dashed out onto the street, panting.

Why? How could this have happened? The question continued to hound her and made her want to run. So she did, so full of nervous energy was she.

She knew him well enough to know he had not forced himself on her. He even respected her to a point. But he was almost twice her age. So how had it happened and why couldn't she remember anything? She wasn't a party girl and when she did go to party's, she drank very lightly.

Upon further thinking of it she was surprised that she wasn't disgusted with the whole thing… but she'd also never even thought of him in that way before, so why?

Luckily the bus was running for the morning commute and she caught the one that would take her home. She'd shower and then try to piece together what had happened the night before.

Stepping out of the shower, she toweled herself off. It hadn't made her feel any better. Her mind had come no closer to figuring out the mystery of her nighttime foray. She was still too blown away at who her partner had been. She hoped he wasn't the kind to spew details of his conquests to any who would listen the next day. If he was smart, and she knew he was, he'd keep his lips zipped about it or her father would definitely overhear and then he'd be dealt with.

Barbra decided she didn't really want him dealt with in that way so she wasn't about to go to her father about it. The man was a friend of the family. She and her father tolerated him better then most in Gotham. She even liked him on some levels, though sometimes he made it difficult.

But not in the way they'd spent the previous night together!

"That's it, Wooby," She sat on her bed and talked to her favorite old stuffed bear as it lay on her pillow. "I'm going to have to go over everything that happened to me yesterday up to the point where I go blank."

She went to her computer and began typing up a timeline. There was that dentist's appointment she had first thing in the morning, then the lecture on feminine studies at school given by Miss Strom. There was lunch with her girlfriends and then a little boutique shopping. She had bought some new nylons and some perfume and some earrings. Then she was meeting her father, but he'd called and pushed their meeting back and would just call it dinner so she went back home to study. She left to meet her dad at the station and had chatted with Montoya while waiting for him to get out of a meeting with… him.

She shook her head, trying to clear the image of him having sex with her. It wasn't a memory, just her imagination. Why on earth couldn't she remember something like that?

Dinner with dad, dinner with dad… what did she have to eat? She paused and blinked. She couldn't remember! She glanced at the timeline. So, she thought. I don't remember anything that happened to me after 7:45pm. I woke up around 5:20am. That's almost eight and a half hours unaccounted for.

She rested her elbows on the desk and her chin on her palms as she stared at the screen.

Barbra thought about the headache she'd had that morning. It was still there but not quite as intense. It was something she could ignore. What she couldn't ignore was the fact she'd slept with someone she shouldn't have and wouldn't have under normal circumstances.

Normal circumstances, she thought. So these were extraordinary circumstances. She ran over the previous days events once more.

"What could cause me to lose all memory for that long a time? I obviously was coherent and able or else he would not have taken advantage of me so. He may be a lot of things, but I know him better then most and he wouldn't do that, especially to me."

She stood up and grabbed her jacket and the bag that held her Batgirl outfit. She drove, leaving her radio on the police channel, hoping to hear of something where Batman would be needed. It hadn't taken long for dispatch to call for aide in dealing with Poison Ivy. Upon hearing that, she turned the wheel sharply and drove into downtown. She ditched her car and in a flash changed into Batgirl. It hadn't taken her long to appear at the scene where Poison Ivy seemed to be held up at the very boutique where she'd shopped the previous day.

Frowning, she moved in closer, sticking with the shadows as best she could.

"Weak! That is what you train your little girls to grow up as!" Poison Ivy was shouting from her place of cover at anyone who would listen. At the moments it was a couple of cops hunkered behind their squad cars.

The street was clear, but Barbra could see there was movement inside the shop. It was clear that they weren't henchmen in there, but hostages.

"And when you encounter a strong willed woman, you drive her into submission in any way or form necessary! Well… 'ware you oppressors of the so-called gentler sex! The tide is soon turning and we shall see who comes out on top! The man… or the woman!" Poison Ivy threw two plant pods over at the cops and upon their impact with the ground exploding, toxic pollen billowed out, engulfing the two officers as Poison Ivy made her escape.

Frowning, Barbara couldn't in good conscious go after Ivy when there were two cops who needed immediate help. She was over there instantly, offering a simple nose and mouth mask to them, nothing as elaborate as Batman would have, but almost as effective. They were choking and coughing even as they applied the masks, having already inhaled some of the pollen. Her own mask was already in place.

She heard the sirens in the distance and winced, knowing he was more then likely on the way. She'd have to stay and make sure the two officers she'd helped got medical attention. She hated that Poison Ivy had escaped, but it couldn't've been helped. Where was Batman?

The backup screeched to a halt and he stepped out of the first patrol car. She was glad she was able to hide in her Batgirl outfit.

He had his normal scowl on when he saw her. "Great, two officers down, Poison Ivy escaped, and who do I find? Batgirl."

She didn't dare say anything, unsure if he'd finally be able to recognize her voice or not.

"Detective Bullock, these men need to be seen to. Looks like they got gassed by Poison Ivy." Detective Montoya was kneeling beside the ill looking officers that had been at the scene first.

Bullock turned from Batgirl. "Then call for an ambulance. You and you!" He pointed at two other officers randomly. "Go inside and check on those people, also get statements from them. You, Officer Harris… go scout the area, see if that crazy chick left any clues!"

Barbara stared at Bullocks back. She really didn't want to be there, especially not when Bullock was in one of his moods. It was hard to envision the peaceful, almost happy look that had been on his face earlier that morning. Biting her lip at the thought, she backed away into the shadows before his attention fell back to her.

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Delicate

Part II

By Brenna "Snakelady" Dawkins

A Batman Adventures Fanfic

Disclaimer: Batman and all subsequent characters are owned by DC Comics. I own nothing. Nothing I tell you! No money was made from this fic.

Rating: R

Summary: Barbra Gordon has been administered a dangerous drug that makes her want and do things that are out of her control. Because of its embarrassing nature, she is unwilling to confide in Batman, Robin, or her father. Whom can she turn to? Sexual content, language

(AN: Was trying to drop hints on who it was Barbara slept with all through the first chapter, but was also hoping to keep you guessing at the same time. This chappy should answer that question.)

He woke slowly. The first thing on his mind brought a languorous smile to his lips. His hand quested the sheets beside him and the smile faltered somewhat. There was no one there. In fact, no one had been there for quite some time because the spot was cold. He sat up in bed and looked about his small studio apartment. He had hoped to see her making breakfast, but she was no where in sight. The large man sighed as he scrubbed his face with a big, calloused hand.

He hadn't been sure what would happen that morning after, but he hadn't expected this. She had been insistent, to his surprise and had initiated everything. She went after him like she was on some sort of major unrequited bender.

Bullock liked her enough to try to discourage her unusually forward actions, at first thinking she must have been drunk, but her kiss didn't taste of alcohol. Her hands had roamed him, plucked and pulled him and he had given in shortly after. It had been amazing, to say the least. Sure he had fantasized about it with her periodically, but he had done nothing about it because he was a friend of the family. And she hadn't shown any interest… until last night. And boy did she show him!

Bullock rolled out of bed, still naked and went to get showered and cleaned up for work.

He wondered at her absence. Surely she couldn't be regretting it now, could she? He had definitely showed her a rousing good time. Bullock had been surprised at how vocal she was, how demanding. Not once, but four times throughout the night had they made love, all at her insistence. He was tired still. It had been a very long time since he had been with anyone. He wasn't in the habit of girl hunting, and those few times he had tried recently had all ended in failure.

So when a young, smart, and beautiful girl like her literally threw herself at him in his apartment… well, it was the last thing he had expected.

Once dressed, he made sure his gun was fully loaded and pulled on the shoulder holster. He had his normal, sloppy attire hanging off of him but he had decided to shave that morning, knowing how badly he must have scratched her face last night with the stubble of several days.

Would the encounter happen again? He sure hoped so. It did his ego some good knowing that she had the hots for him. He'd play it cool at work though. No way was he going to let it slip to her father what he'd done to his little girl.

No, she was definitely a woman. He had been surprised at how tight she had been. Bullock had figured someone like her would have bedded some handsome, young college boy by now. She hadn't said so, but he suspected he was her first. He somehow felt superior in that knowledge. Not even Dick Grayson had gotten as far with her as he had. He just wished he'd known how she had felt sooner.

But how did she feel? She wasn't there that morning, but maybe she had an early morning class she had to get to.

He shrugged and preferred to let his memory replay last night's giddy events. He couldn't help but shudder once or twice. It wasn't long before he became stiff. He squirmed in his seat as he drove to work. Somehow he'd have to keep his mind on his work, though he wasn't sure if he could actually manage it.

Despite the fact that he woke up alone, he felt oddly chipper when he arrived at work. Montoya raised an eyebrow at his unusual good mood.

"Can't a guy have a descent night every once in a while?" Was all he would say to her questing look.

"Yes, but… I've not seen you this happy in… well… ever."

Bullock shrugged.

"Just, things seem to be finally lookin' up, is all."

"Well, I guess that's good news."

"You guess?"

She shrugged. "Look, I'm happy that you're happy."

Montoya left it at that. Bullock wasn't quite sure of the sincerity of her remark. He was never quite sure where he stood with the pretty, Latin officer. He knew he tended to step on people's toes, and Montoya was no exception. She was still mostly civil to him, which was saying a lot, compared to the other female detectives at the station. Maybe because she was his on again, off again partner she knew his quirks the best of all the female officers and tolerated him more then she probably should.

He had never really thought of it like that before. He snorted and shook his head. Damned good mood was going to end up getting him in trouble if he wasn't careful, he thought to himself.

Bullock knew for a fact that Montoya didn't harbor any of those kind of feelings for him. That didn't stop him from the occasional fantasy though. He was very much a guy and wasn't the least apologetic about it. But he knew someone who DID have those feelings for him. His mind instantly went to the first sexual encounter of the evening. He sat down and stared at his typewriter, a soft smile on his face. She had been all over him, her mouth, her hands, and he likewise all over her. She'd begged him to take her and who was he to say 'no'?

"Bullock!"

The large Detective jumped in his seat at the summons.

"Commish?" He had the grace to look guilty and found it hard to look his old friend in the eye after what he had been day dreaming.

"Poison Ivy has been spotted downtown near the corner of Burke and 70th. Two officers are already at the scene, but they need back up. Grab your team and do what you do best!"

Bullock nodded and was glad for the excuse to get out for a while. He gathered his men and led the lot to the scene. Montoya was beside him and a rooky was in the back seat. Once they arrived, he was disappointed to see that the perp was no where in sight. His hackles raised at the sight of a familiar dark figure kneeling beside two of his men, the form smaller and obviously feminine.

"Damn Batgirl…" Bullock swore as he knew he was going to catch hell for this.

Once he secured the area, he wasn't surprised to see the vigilante had disappeared.

Montoya came back up to Bullock. "Poison Ivy made a clean get away, so to speak. No traces except for the pods she'd left behind."

"Well that's just freakin' great!" Bullock growled. "I swear, Montoya, if these caped crusaders muck up my op one more time…!" He didn't finish the sentence, so infuriated was he.

"Calm down, Harvey. You should be happy no one got seriously hurt."

"Yeah, la-de-freakin'-dah!" His good mood was now gone. He really had been hoping to see some action, not the disappointing aftermath. "Well… mop things up around here, I got somethin' to take care of."

He didn't wait for her reply as he turned and headed back to his squad car alone, leaving an exasperated female officer behind him. He hadn't wanted his good mood to be over so quick and there was only one way he could think of to get back into his good mood. He had to go see her. Her father was not going to be a the house, so it would be a perfect time.

Bullock stopped at the florist on the way and picked up a single red rose and then drove to her house in the suburbs. When he got to the house, he rang the doorbell only to find the door locked and no one was home. Disappointed, but not surprised, he walked around the house over to where he knew her room to be. He was pretty good at getting into places with normal locks and soon had jimmied the window latch open from the outside. Opening her window, he scrambled through with complete lack of grace. But he couldn't care less about that, what counted was the results. Finally in her room, he glanced around the fairly girly room.

Eyes landing on her canopy bed, he walked over and placed the rose on her pillow along with a note card that only had the initial 'B' on in. Then he decided it would be prudent to get the hell out of there.

To Be Continued…


End file.
